


Operation: Immunity

by Broncozfan623



Series: C.B.I Operations [1]
Category: Call of Duty (Video Games), The Last of Us (Video Games)
Genre: Cordyceps Fungus (The Last of Us), Cordyceps only in US, Every Faction is More Militarized, Game: Call of Duty: Ghosts, Gen, Minor Ellie/Riley (The Last of Us), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Zombie Apocalypse, Riley Lives (The Last of Us)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 22:33:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28785750
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Broncozfan623/pseuds/Broncozfan623
Summary: America is in ruin. For the last twenty years, the continental US has been ravaged by a combination of brain fungus and civil war. What's left of the country's government battles the "Fireflies" in the streets of abandoned cities and quarantine zones. Foreign nations have long since abandoned those that remain. However, one group lives in the shadows. A seceded military faction with tactics and skills unlike any other. A group that's message and symbol is spread across the nation, even though it's unknown if they truly even exist. They're called: the Ghosts.
Series: C.B.I Operations [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2137089
Kudos: 4





	Operation: Immunity

**Author's Note:**

> This was the first fanfic I ever wrote back in 2013, on FanFiction.net. You can't find the original story, as it's long been deleted. I thought that coming into 2021, almost seven years since it was published, it's a good time to revive this story and give it another shot. I will be changing the timeline of events from "The Last of Us Part I" slightly, but it'll be the same for the most part. Either way, I hope that you'll join and stay with me for the duration of this journey.
> 
> But now, it's time for "Operation: Immunity's" rebirth to begin.

The world I know is not the one from the stories...

They speak of crowded streets in New York City, busy movie theaters in Los Angeles, and packed stadiums in Boston.

People were alive, free, and able to care about things like...sports, work, friends, anything.

Needless to say, you don't see any of that here anymore.

The United States of old died a long time ago. On September 26th, 2013.

…

We never truly knew where the fungus came from. Some say it mutated from insects and made its way to humans. Others say it came from crops in South America.

Not that any of it matters. The results would have been the same.

All it took for the fungus was one, tiny spore to slip into someone's lungs, and the chaos would ensue.

By January, hundreds of thousands were lost.

After a year, millions were gone...those that remained either fought each other or stayed hidden, hoping that the world around us would come help...

…

The world sat back in horror as they watched one of the most powerful nations fall to a single fungus. They responded like any human would do: they looked out for themselves and the people they cared about.

The Southern border is constantly patrolled and monitored, with three electric fences standing between them and what's left of us.

On the North, a wall that touches both oceans.

On the seas, warships monitor the waters. Any boats leaving the country would be seized...or sunk...

…

So, here we are. A broken nation where we sit behind walls and fences, fighting either the infected or each other just for the chance of staying alive another day.

Don't wanna be alone in the chaos or you're just not having any luck with settlements? Don't worry, we got you covered.

The Hunters look like everyday people, at least in our fucked up world. Don't be fooled though. They're ruthless killers and will gun you down in the streets just to take the shoes off your feet.

What's left of The Feds is hiding behind their quarantine zone walls. You can either join them and fight or you can work for them. Just make sure not to build an appetite.

If you'd rather fight for "freedom", then you can try to find the Fireflies. They say they're looking for a cure to this disease, but it's hard to get a degree these days.

The caveat of those last two: they're not fans of each other. If you join the Feds, you'll fight the Flies. If you join the Flies, you'll fight the Feds. Be sure to consider who you'd rather fight against before choosing a side.

But that's not all we've got...

There's another group, hidden in the most ordinary places. Former Feds who backed out and decided to go their own way, and ended up in a war with them and the Fireflies. A group that you won't see coming until you're already dead. A group said to have contact with the outside world, unlike anyone else.

They call themselves...the "Ghosts".

That's where you'll find me.

...

...

...

The Boston skyline still looms over the city, a landmark of an older time.

The streets of the Federal quarantine zone are quiet, as citizens gather among themselves while soldiers keep a keen eye on them. The American flag, while battered and dirty, still flies.

In hidden buildings and warehouses, Fireflies gather. They treat their wounded and coordinate their next move.

Other citizens search through cars and windows, trying to find any supplies they can, guns either drawn or hands nearby them.

Within some houses and other buildings, infected gorge on bodies of humans or animals. Others idle around, mumbling and moaning and clicking.

On the walls, graffiti overlaps the brick and wood. The logo of the Fireflies stands out, as well as their motto, "Believe in the Light".

However, other walls show a different mark. A white figure shaped like a head, with words saying, "The Ghosts are real".

…

In another area of the city, a soldier sits in the window of what was once an apartment. His rifle sits on the side, as he writes on a small piece of paper.

The paper reads everything said before, but also includes one more line.

"My name is Brad Johnston. I'm nineteen years old and I'm from Charlotte, North Carolina. I am a soldier for Task Force: STALKER, the Ghosts, callsign Patriot 5-4. If you find this, you'll know then that we are real...and we will always fight..."

...

Brad folded the letter he wrote and slid it into the drawer nearby the window he sat at.

He then rested his head back, exhaling heavily. Sweat dripped down his face from the helmet he wore on his head, starting to rip away at the paint over his face.

With a swift swipe, he extinguished the droplet, smudging the paint even more so.

His radio buzzed in his ear, a new message from his officers.

_"Patriot 5-4, do you read?"_

Brad reached up, hit the button to talk, and spoke, "I read ya. Go ahead."

_"New orders are coming in from Scarecrow. RV with your squad and get back to base."_

"Roger. I'm on my way, 5-4 out."

With that, he stood up from his spot in the windowsill, retrieving the rifle that he left at his side. He pulled the magazine out to check its capacity, full. Placing it back in, he bulled back to chamber a round before walking out of the apartment and into the halls.

As he moved to the stairwell, he stepped over corpses of infected that he had killed earlier. He entered the stairwell and was soon descending.

…

The door creaked open, and Brad's rifle was the first thing that was seen. He emerged out soon after checking the street.

"Rendezvous is just a few blocks away. Streets should be fine for that long."

* * *

**Loadout:**

**Primary: **Honey Badger assault rifle (w/ Red dot sight)

 **Secondary:** .44 Magnum handgun

* * *

Brad started walking down the street, passing busted cars and other rotting corpses. The skyline stood high above all of the other buildings, some hardly staying upright.

It was a miracle that any of them had survived, although none of them were ever used. Infected probably fill every floor.

Not that he'd ever go in to find out. He's heard the stories. It's rumored that they tried to evacuate civilians from the roof when the infection was first starting to hit the country.

Needless to say, it didn't go very well.

Thankfully, the base was nowhere near downtown. The infected in that area would be the Fed's problem.

…

As Brad turned at an intersection, a gunshot rang out. He ducked behind cover, as another discharge went off.

He peaked around his cover and saw a woman crawling away from an infected, stage one. She aimed her pistol and fired again, but missed. The infected pounced on her, thrashing and gnawing at her.

"Shit..." he whispered, walking slowly out of his cover.

He aimed his rifle at the infected and waited. He didn't want to hit the woman, but he also didn't want her to get bit.

Just as the woman was able to shove the infected back lightly, Brad fired. The rifle, while silenced, was still loud enough that the woman and any other surrounding infected would hear.

His shot pierced the infected's neck, and it collapsed to the side. The woman crawled back and away, still just trying to regain her composure.

Brad had dipped back into his cover. The woman looked around for the source of the shot but was unable to avert their eyes from their wrist.

Teeth marks were indented into her skin.

…

Brad was about to come out and say something, but she started to lift up her arm.

Her handgun rose up to her head and rested itself on her temple.

He finally stepped out and yelled, "Hey, wait-"

_Gunshot_

_T_ _hump_

…

He ran up to her body, which had slumped over and was now spewing blood from the bite and the wounds in her head. Her eyes were still open, dead and cold.

Brad sighed, reaching down and shutting her eyelids.

"I'm sorry..." he said lightly before standing back up and moving down the street.

…

Not long after that encounter, his radio started buzzing again.

_"Brad, it's Martinez. Everyone else has already arrived at the RV point. Where are you?"_

Martinez was his squad leader, and Brad knew better than to make him wait, "I'm just across the street. Sorry, had an infected problem on my way here."

_"Copy. Baker, can you confirm Brad's location?"_

One of his squadmates, Baker, responded, _"I got eyes on him. The road is clear for now."_

"Rog'. I'm on my way."

Brad double-checked the road before running across the street and into a building.

Martinez and another of his squadmates were in the room when he entered, hidden behind a desk and a counter.

…

Martinez walked up and he and Brad shook hands, "Took you long enough to get here, ya slow bastard."

"Hey, you're the one that sent me half-a-mile away from this point."

"Dude, I was further away than you." The other squadmate, Watts, spoke up as he joined them.

"Whatever man."

Martinez took a step back towards the door, "Alright, let's get moving. They're waiting for us back at base."

He walked out the back exit into the alley, Watts and Brad following right behind him. Baker jumped down from the fire escape and joined them.

"Glad you could join us, Brad." He said as he gave Brad a fist bump.

"Happy to be here."

Martinez started speaking into his radio, "Outpost 12, this is Patriot 5-1. We are regrouped and on our way back to base."

_"Roger 5-1. Be advised, we got reports of lots of Infected activity in your area. Proceed with caution."_

"You heard him, guys. Weapons tight and stay on guard. They could be anywhere."

…

…

…

"Nope. No getting around."

Watts backed away from the tipped-over semi-truck, which was blocking the road along with several other crashed cars.

He turned and walked to Martinez, "The pile-up behind goes down the whole block. We're gonna have to find another way."

"We can't just walk over the cars?"

"I know it's unlikely, but if one of those car alarms goes off, it'll bring every infected nearby right on us."

"Damn..." Martinez said, looking around the area for any other route, "Any building we can cut through?"

Brad was searching through windows of old stores, flashing his flashlight through. Most of them were boarded, but there were some with barricaded doors or didn't seem to have another exit.

He came across what looked like an old bar. It looked empty and the door wasn't blocked.

"Hey, I found something. Looks like we might be able to cut through here."

"Peak in and check."

Brad quickly poked open the door, and some "dust" spewed out immediately. He very quickly covered his nose and mouth and backed away.

"Fucking hell..."

Martinez immediately ran up and grabbed his shoulder, "You good? Did you breathe any in?"

"Nah, I didn't...how the hell didn't I see them?"

Before they could do anything, Baker came forward with his gas mask already on. He opened the door slowly and examined the bar.

"No infected, or at least...none that are alive. Get your masks on and get in here."

The rest of the team quickly put on their gas masks and entered the bar, Brad shutting the door behind them all.

He then looked into the corner and saw the corpse of what was once a stage three infected, a "Clicker". The cordyceps had sprouted off of their head and into the walls, releasing the spores throughout the building.

Baker crouched down in front of it with his flashlight, "Body is old. Must be from the early days."

"Wouldn't it have decomposed by then?"

"Normally, yes. The reason it's still here is cuz of the fungus, not that it matters."

"Keep it quiet," Martinez said in a whisper, "stay close and don't make a sound. Baker, keep that light up."

…

The four of them slowly and methodically scanned the downstairs of the bar. Thankfully for them, it was empty aside from a few dead bodies.

Unfortunately, there was no exit. The only hope was upstairs.

"Alright, stay close and move slow. Baker, take the lead."

"Gotcha."

In order from Baker, Martinez, Watts, to Brad, they started their ascent. Slowly and steadily. The floorboards creaked underneath their boots, their breathing sounding heavy with the gas masks.

When they were far enough up, Baker was able to shine the light over the ledge and into the second story.

A few seconds over, there was loud groaning and stumbling footsteps. Somewhere else, they also heard a clicker screech and start stumbling as well.

The infected had been awoken.

"Damnit..." they heard Baker mutter under his breath. Regardless though, they pressed on, Baker being much more careful with the light this time.

They made it to the second story, as the infected were stumbling around knocked over tables and chairs while slouched over. The clicker in the area was doing the same, albeit louder and more sporadic.

Martinez pointed to Watts and Brad and then to the area behind them. The two nodded and moved away from the others.

Crouching underneath booths and behind tables, Brad was able to get into a position in the corner of the restaurant, far from the infected. Watts was on the other side of the aisle.

…

_"I count seven runners and one clicker. If we wanna have a chance to get through, we need to take them out at the same time. Everyone good to go?"_

_"I'm behind the bar,"_ Baker said through the radio, _"The clicker is a little too close for comfort for me."_

_"Watts is the only one with a high enough caliber to take it out without multiple shots."_

_"I've got eyes on it. Don't worry."_

Brad looked over at Watts, and his rifle was unsuppressed. He whispered loudly over, "Get a silencer on that!"

Watts looked at his barrel and said, "Shit..." before pulling down and trying to retrieve the suppressor he had.

"Let's just handle the runners for now."

_"Alright. Brad, take the first shot."_

Brad aimed his rifle up at the closest infected, right at its head.

His finger rested on the trigger, and he slowly pulled.

The gun discharged, the infected dropping immediately. Baker and Martinez immediately took down two more runners. The runners weren't started or noticed anything different.

However, when the shell casing hit the ground nearby Baker, the clicker reacted to it. It started gnashing its teeth and screeching towards Baker's position.

_"Watts, I really need help here."_

Watts was able to get his suppressor on and finally able to aim towards the clicker.

_click_

…

Watts started panicking. His weapon had jammed.

Brad shook his head and said, "Fuck it," and aimed into the restaurant. He quickly dropped the other two runners and then turned his attention to the clicker.

His quick footsteps had alerted it to him, and it turned back towards Brad and shrieked.

Brad quickly unloaded rounds into the clicker. Three shots into the head weren't able to drop it, so he went for the body.

He fired six more shots into the torso and two more into the head. The clicker still wouldn't go down. It didn't stop him though, as he continued to fire.

Eventually, though, it came to an end.

He ran out of bullets.

Starting to back up, the clicker began flailing wildly, advancing closer and closer to Brad. Martinez and Baker tried shooting at it, but they missed most of their shots.

Brad stumbled on a chair and fell onto his back. He started crawling away, but the clicker's advance did not slow down one bit.

It almost got to him, but one final gunshot from behind him into the face took it down.

Watts then walked up behind him, gun up and one the clicker the whole way. He helped Brad get onto his feet.

"That was stupid, y'know."

"I wouldn't have had to do that if you were better prepared."

"Who tries to take a clicker head-on?"

"Who gets into a fight with infected without a suppressor?"

Martinez separated the two of them, "Knock it off, both of you. We've got more important things to do than to have you two bickering. Now let's get out of here."

"There's a stairwell to the rooftop over here. Come on."

They started walking towards Baker, Brad reloading his rifle while he was walking.

…

The four of them moved to the rooftop, thankfully clear of infected.

"We're close to the base. Shouldn't be much further."

"We taking the rooftops there?"

"Better than going on the road."

They started moving from rooftop to rooftop, scaling over and jumping down walls.

Pretty soon, Martinez started radioing to the base, "Outpost 12, Patriot 5 is approaching the west gate. Patch me through to the guards."

_"Copy, patching you through."_

After a few seconds, a new voice came through the radio, _"Patriot 5, we're opening the west gate for you. Welcome home, boys."_

They all hopped down into the street via a fire escape and headed down the road. There was a large concrete wall that opened up, two armed guards standing in towers at the sides.

The squad all walked through the entrance, the wall closing behind Brad.

Things were as busy as ever. Soldiers moving around the open area going back and forth. Some were heading out into the city, others were returning just like them. Others were heading to the training yard, while some directed civilians wherever needed.

Outpost 12 was the last TFS outpost left in Massachusetts. The amount of security around the perimeter, inside and out, had ramped up over the last few months. Brad remembered the first time they were assigned recon duty nearly a week straight back in the winter. It sucked, but it had to be done by someone.

…

"Baker, Watts, head to the armory and restock. We might be going out again soon. Brad, you're with me."

Baker and Watts both walked past them in another direction, past a group of other soldiers about to head out past the wall.

Watts did stop and offer Brad a handshake, "Hey, no hard feelings?"

"None at all, brother," Brad said while taking it.

After that exchange, Brad hung his rifle over his shoulder and followed after Martinez.

…

The command center was busy as ever. Men on radios were communicating with the soldiers spread throughout the city, others were talking with soldiers who had just returned or were departing soon.

An officer came over to Martinez with a folder, "Orders from Scarecrow himself."

"A folder? Really?"

"Sorry. It's all we've got this time."

The officer immediately walked away but stopped to turn back and say, "One more thing, you've got a new guy assigned to your squad. He's waiting for you at the armory. Meet up with him while you're still here."

With that, the officer walked away from them.

"A new squadmate? Did you put in a request?"

"No, I didn't. Whatever, guess we'd better go find him."

…

…

…

"We've received intel that two individuals with close connections to the Queen Firefly are still in Boston. You will find and retrieve them and bring them back to base, alive and unharmed. The targets are being deemed high-value, and their safety is of the utmost importance,"

Martinez continued as he paced around the room, "Furthermore, a new member of your squad will be joining you as a transfer from the Baltimore unit. You will depart the base immediately after receiving your orders and regrouping with your new squadmate."

"So, they just want us to go out in the city and find two random civs?" Baker said as he loaded more magazines, "Sounds like a waste of time."

"It says they're connected to the Queen Firefly."

"Every one of them is connected to the Queen. What's so different about these two?"

"Maybe they know 'em personally?" Brad chimed in from the corner, where he lounged back against the wall.

"Where are we supposed to look anyway, and who are we even looking for?" Watts asked Martinez, who had set the folder down next to his own set of weapons.

"The file gave their names and their last known location together. Riley Abel and Ellie Williams. Sixteen and fourteen. Last seen at the Liberty Mall near the FEDRA Military School."

Brad sighed, "That's on the other side of the city..."

Baker set his rifle down on the couch behind him, "Can't we get someone to fly us out there, at least?"

"That's outside of the base's fly zone. They'd be shot down if we flew in that close. Sorry, but we're going there on foot."

Watts continued to wipe down the barrel of his rifle, "Guess that's why they want us out so early."

"Not to mention we got a rookie to deal with..."

…

As soon as Brad had said that, the door opened and a new soldier entered the room.

"You guys Patriot 5?"

Brad laughed lightly, "Speak of the devil..."

"I'm assuming you're our new guy."

"Yes sir. PFC Cameron Jackson, from the Raven Unit in Baltimore. It's an honor to be able to fight with you guys."

The squad was silent for a while, leaving a nervous expression on Jackson's face.

Martinez pat Jackson on the shoulder lightly, "Save the words like that until after we're dead, rookie."

"Sir?"

"Don't worry about it. I'm SFC Jacob Martinez, your C.O. That's SGT Matthew Baker, CPL James Watts, and CPL Brad Johnston. You'll have plenty of time to get acquainted when we're on the road."

Jackson looked a bit surprised, "Wait, we're moving out already?"

"Yep. Get loaded up and ready to move. Be sure to wear your comfortable shoes, cuz we'll be walking for a while."

Martinez gave Jackson one more pat on the shoulder before he loaded up the file with their orders into a backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, along with his rifle.

"We leave in ten. If you're late, you get left behind."

He then left the room, Baker and Watts soon following after him. Jackson was left there, perplexed.

Brad got up and picked up a gun from the wall and tossed it to Jackson, who nearly missed it.

"Welcome to Patriot 5." He said before he too left the room.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed. What did you think? Let me know. I know this kind of story is not something a lot of people would normally read, but I hope that you'll at least give it a chance.
> 
> See you in the next one.


End file.
